


A different tale

by saulla993



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-13
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-03-02 12:44:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18811153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saulla993/pseuds/saulla993
Summary: An alternate universe where Jaime is released from the Kingsguard at the request of Tywin and forced to marry someone Robert thinks will make him miserable.





	1. Starfall

**Author's Note:**

> Look, season 8 is HOT garbage, I don't want to spend any more time thinking about what a waste it makes of the whole show so I am hiding away in my own delusion. This is also pretty garbage, I wrote most of it several years ago in college and I decided that mine was still better than theirs.  
> SO.... If you thought season 8 is the worst and want something completely different then I would love for you to give it a try.  
> PS this was posted in part a long time ago to fanfiction.net under the name Fresh Start.

Starfall was built right into a cliff in small bay on the eastern side of Dorne; the keep had stood as long as anyone could remember, the history of the keep seemed to go back to the time of the great queen. The Daynes, the current occupants of Starfall worked to maintain it despite the way time had recently treated them. Though there was little left of the family but an elderly man, a young woman, a widow and her son. It had all started with Robert's Rebellion, or the better known in these parts as the War of the Usurper.  
There was a saying among the small folk and lords alike that you could flip a coin when a Targaryen was born; heads they are sane, tails they are not. Aerys had turned out spectacularly insane, making him both the mad king and the lost of the dragon lords. Starfall had been called to support Prince Doran Martell's banners and also the king's forces. The crown princess being a Martell by birth, but with Ser Arthur Dayne amongst the kingsguard, the men had had a great desire to fight alongside him too. Not that it had done either of them any good, Dorne and the Targaryen cause was lost and so to was the Sword of the Morning and the heir to Starfall. Arthur's older brother Garlan was slain at the trident along with Lewin Martell and the Prince Rhaegar. Arthur died protecting the northern woman at the tower of Joy.  
When the war was over one of the rebel lords had the decency to bring back their bones, and also house Dayne's ancestral valaryian blade Dawn, which Arthur had carried with him. Now, Lord Alban Dayne had only daughters left; the very beautiful Ashara, and the much younger Allyria who had been a surprised to everyone. But even this was not to last. Ashara, who had always seemed so strong behind those dark violet eyes, let her grief engulf her. The very afternoon Lord Stark left Starfall she climbed to her towers and jumped. Ashara had not screamed or cried out as she fell into the ocean; as such no one suspected anything for many hours. When there was no sign of her after dinner a search party was organized. It was Darrion, son of the steward who found the body. The boy had gone down to the caves beneath the keep, knowing the girl rather enjoyed the vast emptiness of the place and had perhaps gone in search of some solace there. Ashara had been face down on a rock, her legs floating in the shallow water. The soles of her feet and the skin on her legs were swollen and bruised, The sight left little doubt to whether the lady was alive, but Darrion did hope, he hoped against logic and reason, he hoped and he prayed to all the seven that the god's would save his lordship this tragedy.  
He held her limp and lifeless body, he had covered her once beautiful face with his cloak. It had become disfigured from crashing against the rocks. In life Darrion had never seen someone so beautiful with pale as milk skin, hair as dark as night and deep violent and kind eyes. He and some of the other boys used to daydream about her. Now he felt nothing but nausea and sadness. He began to cry as he waded through the caves trying to carry her back home.  
Summer had come back in full force to Dorne then, but even in the stifling summer heat Darrion shivered. It was difficult to carry her, dead bodies don’t help support themselves and her waterlogged clothes made everything worse. The cloak kept falling off and at one point he stumbled and almost fell on top of her. He cut up his hands catching himself on the sharp rocks and his slippery hands made everything worse.  
For a while he couldn’t take it anymore, he sat and he wept. Life wasn’t fair and the God’s were cruel. He had lost his father in the war, that had been hard enough. To lose this much, how was anyone supposed to cope? Eventually it was cold and he couldn't wait any longer, the Lord and Lady would need to know, and in truth would want too. When they were presented with yet another body they could not contain themselves any longer, they wept openly. Many people of the castle wept with them, Ashara had been loved by all who knew her.  
Years passed and everything was done to give their only surviving child happiness, still the shadow of the losses sometimes loomed large over the small family. All too quickly eight name days had gone by and Allyria was almost a woman grown. She was strong curious and bright-eyed, the same color as her father and siblings before her. Allyria was smart and spent many joyous hours in the library with the maester, who taught her about the noble houses and histories of Westeros. She even had a good hand for stitches, especially for her age, but rarely had the patience to sit still long enough to really accomplish something. She learned swordplay and though she wasn’t much of a soldier she wasn’t half bad with a dagger.  
Another year passes, and so too did her mother. At thirteen Allyria became Lady of Starfall. Lord Alban had passed many of the responsibilities of the keep to his daughter and grandson Edric.  
Three more years and Allyria was a woman long since flowered, she had the same small waist and gracious hips her mother and sister had had. In fact, Allyria had become a very fine looking young woman with long blonde hair that fell mostly straight, she was an average height, being slightly taller than most of the regions women. As such there had been many offers for her hand she knew, but her father had rejected them all. Lord Alban did not share his reasons for this, and Allyria did not ask. She suspected that he did not want her to marry and leave him, fearing being alone. Since she had no desire to leave either she lived as if completely ignorant, and it was rather blissful. Here, she was free. While the attitudes of Dorne were more free than elsewhere in Westeros, she still wasn’t enthused with the idea of amounting to little more than someone’s wife. Allyria did think favorably on having children, but not enough to desire some lord husband who would likely order her about, telling her what to say do or wear.  
The Lord and his daughter were sitting in the library near the fireplace, it wasn't lit but that's just were the nicest chairs were located. It was peaceful in the large room, which looked over the yard and small forge of the keep. Allyria was sewing, repairing a small tear in a green riding dress. The castle didn’t have many servants and as such Allyria repaired almost all of her and her father's clothes and made a great deal of them as well. She had a ladies maid but it was much more of a companion than a servant.  
She noticed her father staring rather intensely at her, a habit he had picked up after his wife's death.  
The room was lit by the orange glow of the sunset, it was high summer and these were the longest days in Westeros' seasons. So even by nine the room was still light enough without any candles. The gentle light played on Allyria's hair making it seem almost silver in one moment and the next a right gold color. "Father," she whispered in a way that marked it as a question. A letter had come from the capital today with his name on it, though she was very curious Allyria decided against reading it.  
"What do you know of the Lannisters?" he asked. It was a strange question for he knew as much as she did, probably more. Even with all of the maesters lessons. They passed a long look, as Allyria hoped the question would change, but it did not.  
"Tywin is the lord paramount of the westerlands, warden of the west, and hold the ancestral seat of Casterly Rock, which is the richest in the entire realm, as it sits on a goldmine. Gold is even reflected in their coloring, tanned skin and blonde hair. Some have joked that the current lord Tywin is so cold and hard that he shits gold." Allyria couldn't help smirking knowing her father had an eyebrow cocked in disapproval without glancing to see him.  
"And," he called back. And, she thought, what else was there to tell.  
"The lions are proud; every house to slight their honor has been destroyed. From their banner men the Reynes or Tarbecks. He was the hand during the Defiance of Duskendale and it’s well known how that worked out. Even the Targaryens..."  
Lord Alban cut her off, "the Targaryens are not destroyed. Allyria couldn’t stop a snort from escaping, "the two in the narrow sea? Yes, they are a great match for Robert. They call the boy Viserys the beggar king."  
"Better a beggar king then a dead king." her father said. Her father had no forgiveness for the current king and had been sloppy in concealing that contempt. In his old age his sentiments had grown closer and closer to treason every year. She had grown thankful for his self imposed solitary confinement. She was also glad when he changed the subject, even if it was only to chastise her.  
"What of the heir?" he asked.  
The light had finally faded and it was too dark to just sit without candles. Servants entered quickly to light the rooms, it took only a few seconds and they were gone again. "Tyrion is his name, I know next to nothing about him. He is a dwarf, they call him the imp though I am sure hates it. Of course he rather earns it frequenting brothels and taverns. I think he lives in Lannisport, beyond that I know not."  
Alban was silent, perhaps finally satisfied. The evening air was full of chirping crickets and the songs of the areas sunbirds. The pine rocking chair creaked occasionally as Lord Alban sat in it. It gave one last low creak as he got up out of his seat walking towards her. In the candle light she looked much more like herself, though she still looked like an angel. Allyria was the lightest of all the Daynes; she had the classic coloring, violet eyes and milk white skin, but most of their line had brown or dark blonde. In the light of the setting sun her hair had looked silver but Alban was so thankful it wasn't, that her hair was to yellow and dark for that. He pulled into a close embrace, stroking her hair and wordlessly handed her the letter.  
"It's past time for me to fulfill a promise; I think your daughter would be a good match for Lannister's heir. I ask that you come to Kings Landing so we can discuss some possible arrangements."  
"He is kind enough to make it seem like a suggestion instead of a royal command," Allyria said after reading it, folding the letter back up rather nervously. "I suppose I will help the servants pack tomorrow, and we will need to reply. How long should I say? A month or is that to long." Allyria was talking fast trying to distract herself, to keep her mind off her soon to be forced marriage. She rushed towards the door continuing to occupy what little of her brain was still functioning.  
"I won't make you marry him," her father said, snatching her hand as she passed him.  
"Oh papa," she kissed his temple, "one man is pretty much like the rest, no matter the size." She had tried to say it with a smile, convincing him that it really didn't change anything. It didn't work, perhaps because Allyria was scared; she wished that she had the ability to reassure herself.


	2. First Impression

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So many of these first chapters will becoming quite quickly. Also I have always been obsessed with the Daynes, probably because I want purple eyes real bad. So I used her but in reality she is basically an original character.

It was his time to guard the King's chambers; Jaime wondered how Robert would try to annoy him today. Boros Blount was on watch right now, and saw Jaime approaching so he left his post. "Abandoning a bit early aren't we?" Jaime asked as the man walked by. Blount was a coward, a good enough swordsman to earn his place in the guard but he would rather run then fight any day. There are few things Jaime found more despicable than a craven knight.   
Today he must have done everything he could to muster up enough courage to reply, "Thought I would give you a wide berth to be alone with the King and his guests." Over the years Jaime had been good at ignoring the little jabs pathetic fools like Robert and Blount said to him, behind his back, to his face. Jaime had wanted to punch the fool in the face for many years, for some reason today almost pushed him over the edge. Thankfully he kept on walking, the man's footsteps echoing as he walked through the Red Keep. Jaime took a deep breath before adding his own falling footsteps sounding through the hall.  
"Whores," Jaime mumbled to himself fisting the pommel of his sword. It was always whores, that the King could degrade his wife and enrage her twin at the same time made it one of his favorite pastimes. Not that it was very inventive on his part. While it was a never ending irritant it was still preferable to the things the former king antics. He had to go away still, but for different reasons.   
The entrance to the King's chambers and solar was sunk into the passageway, whoever was waiting at the door must be sitting on the steps descending towards it, for only a head was visible. She was the cleanest whore Jaime had ever seen, her light blonde hair was very clean brushed and well styled. She had on a raw silk blue dress that pooled around her body. She was beautiful but she wasn’t from King’s Landing. He also doubted very much that she was a whore, she looked very young to be one, though appearances can be deceiving. If she was she still wouldn’t have been the youngest whore he had ever seen. She wasn’t his type though, and it sickened him he knew he prefered brunettes with whom he can pretend to be with his beloved Lyanna.   
The red tile of the keep accentuated the girl's whiteness; her skin and dress were just as white as her hair. For a second his mind played tricks on him and he thought of Rhaella. The queen had always been small and meek and as a young man Jaime had wanted nothing more than to protect her. It turns that would have been another vow he broke if he had. The Targaryens were gone, and the little ones across the sea would never make back to westeros alive.  
Still, something about his silence must have unnerved her. She stood quickly and pressed herself into the corner as conspicuously as possible. Her eyes were turned down and so he felt the need to ask "Who are you?"   
"The last one said I could wait here, I have no where else to go. I will leave if it please you, sorry to disturb you ser." She gave a small bow and sticking to the wall seemed to try to pass by him.   
"Wait," he practically shouted after her, "answer me."  
The girl fidgeted a little bit and lowered her purple eyes causing Jaime's stomach to lurch slightly in nervousness. "Allyria Dayne, ser," she answered quietly.  
"Of course,” Jaime gufawed louder than he had meant to. He had forgotten that the Daynes also had purple eyes and in a moment of anxiety had let his imagination run wild. She stopped looking at him for a moment, and appearing very much confused at his relief. Jaime had adored her older brother, had been knighted by him in fact. He had some memories of the magnificent man but doubted very much that given his past events his sister would have much interest in the Kingslayer.   
"I have heard it say that I look like them, I never meant one. The war started when I was very young. I guess it must be true, at least a little bit." Jaime only nodded. Even as he thought it he knew it was foolish to think that Daenerys Targaryen would live long enough to speak to anyone in the Red Keep. Perhaps it had been craven Blount's warning that set his mind on edge. Even now knowing the truth, it was hard to get past the resemblance. Though he could see the eyes were just a little too dark and the hair yellower and darker too. The blood of old Valyria, as Aerys took to calling himself had only silver hair, never gold.  
"Stay if you want, or go, it matters not to me." The girl was so still she could have been a painted statue, like the ones in the castles gardens. She stayed that way for several moments more, and Jaime wanted to say he had no time for sly maiden's games, but that would be false, all he had was time. "Indulge me, sit again," He asked her though there were no chairs just the hard marble steps again. Allyria remained standing. "Why are you alone? Surely your father would not send you to court by yourself."  
"I came with my father, we were asked to be the king. Though Father would have much rather ignored the summon and have us both stay at home.” Jaime had never met Lord Dayne, but he imagined he had the same streak of loyalty both his sons had. In that Arthur had been loyal to a dead king and prince till the very end, so too would his father. An errand for the new King Robert would not be a welcome one for the Dornish man.  
"What was so important as to require a royal invitation?" Jaime asked leaning in.  
"It's your job to keep the King's secrets, shouldn't you already know?" She asked full of impertinence. The girl was braver and cleverer than she intially showed herself to be and he was surprised. Perhaps the day would not be so dull after all.  
The girl was staring straight at him and those piercing eyes made it hard for him to concentrate. Jaime was rarely the one being charmed. Well many maids had tried, but none had succeeded, he was usually the charmer in a conversation. A single strand of hair clung to her lips as Allyria smiled, and Jaime made to move it. The overly intimate moment was stopped by the door opening suddenly. An elderly man stared back at him, with those same purple eyes. The look was brief, but full of anger and very much directed at Jaime. The man slammed the door shut before grabbing the girl and practically dragging her away. "Goodbye," she called over her shoulder, "Ser, whatever your name is."  
"Jaime," he called back. He hadn't met a person who didn't know who he was already in many years. He smiled at the thought of her innocence; he noticed the girl had smiled too.  
The rest of the day went by quietly and without any interruptions by the king himself. Normal days the silence would be welcome, but today it caused Jaime to dwell on memories best left forgotten. Twelve years ago he had been a very different person, a boy who had dreamed of honor. He had wanted to be exactly like the maid's older brother, but life had turned out differently. Jaime tried to remember what Ser Arthur had looked like, he remembered dark hair, and the eyes of course. Mostly he recalled the man's ability with a sword. It was better to dwell on all the tourneys and battles Jaime had seen Ser Arthur fight in then anything else of his once brother.  
Sooner then he realized Jaime's watch was over and it was time for supper. Sometimes he had dined with the royal family at his sister's request, but it was always a strained and uncomfortable occasion and Jaime began to resent the invitations. Tonight he would dine alone, or with whomever of his sworn brothers remained in White Sword Tower. He saw Arys Oakheart at the table in the center of the solar where food had been brought. There was a sticky glazed ham and brandy pears, buttered yams and what was likely cold pigeon pie. Jaime made a plate for himself but opted to eat in his chambers, grabbing a skin of wine as he left. The kingsguard were servants of the realm and as such didn't have very luxurious accommodations, though they were all sons of some lord or other. Jaime's chambers were not much bigger than the double bed and the basin it contained. It had a nice view though; in fact Jaime suspected that besides the lord commander's room his was the nicest in the tower. His window looked out over the bay, being just over the wall that led to the mud gate. When not on watch duty Jaime passed much of his time looking into the bay watching ships come in. Jaime was not fond of solitude by nature but circumstance had made it the best option, though he would prefer to be in his siblings company to that of anyone else, especially Cersei's.  
They were born the same in every way but one, green eyes gold hair tanned skin and wicked smile. They were whole when they were together, that is what Cersei would say at least. He wasn't quite sure he knew what that meant, but he agreed and that's what she wanted anyways. Over time they had both changed and spending time with her had become harder as she was less and less the sister he knew. His father marrying her off to the king who drank and whored his days away had turned Cersei hard and cold. Sometimes when she called for Jaime she would crumble and crave his comfort, which outside of a battlefield was when he felt most useful.  
There was a warm breeze blowing through the window, ruffling his curls and throwing them into his eyes. The white curtains on the four poster bed moved in the wind as well revealing a piece of parchment there. The note was in his squire's hand but it had been dictated by the queen. He finished his meal, forgetting that he was still dressed all in armor. There would be plenty of time to remove it by himself before going to see his sister. Once the chest plate was off, with it's fastenings in the back, everything else would kind of slip off. He would put it away more carefully when he returned but for now he left the pieces wherever they fell as he was removing them.  
The invitation wasn't for dinner but he was still apprehensive as he reread it. Now he was left in only a thin silk tunic and light cotton breeches, it was too hot under all that metal for anything else. He would be presentable enough for his sister, but he wondered if it would be just his sister. The wardrobe didn't hold very much just breeches tunics and jerkins of various weights. There was a deep burgundy leather jerkin and he put it on, tying the laces in the front. As he was about to pass through the door he spared a thought for his pants, but decided he didn't care it would be good enough for his sister and that's all that mattered. Lions do not concern themselves with the opinions of sheep, he thought to himself, wondering whether Lord Tywin would consider the king as sheep. Or the crown prince as the case more often was.  
It took all Jaime had to be in the same room as the crown prince, what happened to that boy Jaime knew not. Joffrey was a spoiled boy and it seemed to turn him cruel and stupid. God help us when he takes the crown, Jaime had thought often enough over the years.  
As their time in King’s Landing went on there had been many clandestine meetings between the twins, but as he was leaving he was glad there was no one about to question his coming and goings. White Sword Tower was closer to the keep, and Cersei's chambers, then other of the castles out buildings but it was still inconvenient when in a hurry. As most of the castle was either preparing food, eating, or cleaning up after someone who had already eaten, the halls were mostly empty. In truth the castles halls were more empty then not, even as you drew closer to the throne room.  
From within the keep you took a left and went up to reach the queen's chambers, instead of down for the king. The door was partially hid by a statue of a large water nymph, Jaime knocked quietly on the pine door. He could hear light quick steps coming towards him right before the door open inwards revealing his sister. "Oh brother, dear brother," she said as if that were actually his name and not Jaime. Cersei wore her long golden curls pulled back in a net beaded with pearls; her dress was gold with ivory trim and laced up on the front. She pulled Jaime inside wrapping him in a hug after she had shut and bolted the door. He knew she had some plan in mind but he craved her body and was enjoying the feel of her next to him too much to think about it. "I would do anything for you you know that?” She took his chin in her hands and kissed his lips gently. “If I got rid of this one they would just find another.” Jaime wasn’t really listening to her as he turned his lips to run them down her neck. “There is nothing I can do about it, I am so sorry dear brother," she said as she stroked his neck, his head on her shoulder.  
Finally he caught on and her words concerned Jaime and no closeness would calm him now, "What," he asked.  
"When father joined the rebellion he asked Robert to release you from the king's guard when he sat the throne. I don't know why he has waited until now to do so, but he told me he intends to see you married." Jaime didn't think before he wrenched open the door, he never did when he was this angry.  
"He may be king but he isn't a god," Jaime shouted back at her, practically running down the stairs to confront Robert.


	3. second impression

The previous knight had paid no attention to her, not even asking her name as she sat below him on the steps. If she had really thought about it she would be embarrassed, there were a lot of things young maidens could do that wasn’t sitting outside a chamber door waiting.   
Still, she was glad she had stayed, Jaime had been much more interesting. She had not known it then but in retrospect it was fairly obvious that he could only have been one person, the Kingslayer, besides there was only one Jaime in the kingsguard anyways. He is supposed to be the most handsomest man in Westeros, Allyria didn't know if she believed that or not, having never left Dorne she didn’t have much to compare him to. Though she was willing to admit that he was very attractive, that interested her little. She was more intrigued about why a man like Jaime Lannister would seem worried at the sight of her.  
"What did they look like papa?" she asked, her father had not said a word to her since after he met with the king,  
"Oh much like you my dear," he said kindly, with an absent minded smile. Allyria sighed he had misunderstand and she couldn't help but think he had done it purposefully. "Not my siblings papa," she said slightly exasperated.  
"I won't talk about them," he replied with firmness, not that his firmness had ever really counted for much, especially when it came to her. "I hear what they say about me papa, here more so than ever." Once when she was visiting the Martell's, her father's liege lord, she had first been compared to the Targaryens by a still grieving Oberyn. She remembered it today with Jaime; the way he looked at her as if he knew what his mind was telling him was wrong but that he wasn’t sure he could believe it. Her mother had made the same face when Oberyn had compared her to the lost Targaryen girl.  
"Had she lived you and Rhaenys would almost look very much the same. As a child she had darker hair but it was like to lighten in time. She was only a moon and a name day older than you. She was small for her age, when I saw her." Lord Alban turned to look at her. "She came with her father, when he had the tourney at your birth. Rhaegar only joined the lists so Arthur could come I am sure of it. The prince never enjoyed those things very much; he had a level head and didn't enjoy playing at war." Lord Alban dropped his gaze, staring at his hands and shaking his head. "What made him snap, take that Stark girl, I will never know. Arthur only had the highest of praise for Rhaegar, but then Arthur…"  
Her father was drifting of topic, previous experiences had also taught Allyria that dwelling on Arthur's death was the worst thing for her father. "Surely he had brought Princess Elia when he came," she asked, trying to steer the conversation back.  
"Oh yes, yes, she was quite attached to the little bundle, both of them were," he added almost as an afterthought. He laughed a little to himself, though the candle light showed no mirth in his features. "The prince didn’t seem to care much for his wife but then I just assumed it had the same problems that all mariages do. I am ever the optimist. He very good at swordplay though, I thought he had a chance. When I saw him in the melee, then again a sword and a war hammer are not quite evenly matched, not even Dawn." It seemed to Allyria the Lord Alban had forgotten she was even there; he had done this before. She remembered the sort of emotional breakdown he had had when she had started to wear a pendant favored by her sister. He seemed just as lost in his thoughts but not nearly as broken. Allyria wanted the conversation to continue, and he would talk for hours like this, but she did not want to hurt him either.  
"That knight you saw me with, he thought I was Daenerys."   
Her father mumbled in response rocking softly in his chair. "Yes Daenerys, younger than you," Allyria felt strange watching and talking with her father as he studied the carpet. He was bound up in a cloak, they are still very far south, only about halfway to the Neck, but her father considered anything north of the red clay hills marking the dornish border north, which was still almost a moons ride from the capital. In truth it was maybe two degrees cooler than it was at home. Lord Alban had even asked for a fire to be lit, but Allyria was able to talk him out of that. She had asked for all the windows to be opened in her chambers, feeling it much hotter here than in Starfall. There was not as much wind, and all the people and humidity from the narrow sea. She felt constantly ill, between the temperature and the stench. At night she would have trouble sleeping, and in the morning she would wake up sticky with sweat.  
"Jaime," her father said suddenly, surprising Allyria. "He said his name was Jaime, that's important somehow, but I can not remember."  
"They call him the kingslayer, because of Aerys papa."  
"No," he said rather loudly and almost childishly. "Not about the past, something from today." There was a small whine to his voice and Allyria knew he was growing tired; she faked a yawn, "I am sure whatever it was can wait until tomorrow papa, I have grown rather sleepy." Allyria tried to anticipate her father's needs, and protect his dignity and independence. She kissed his head, feeling the silky thinness of his hair against her lips.  
"Thank you for the stories," she said, and with that she left and turned down the hall to her own bed. Other than being a Lannister how could be Jaime be important, she thought as she took off her dress. She took off her shift then and folded both, laying them over the back of a chair. She stripped the bed and lay on the sheets in only her small clothes. Still it took awhile for sleep to over take her.  
In the morning she woke up lightly covered in sweat, as she had every day since arriving in the capital. She had made a standing request for a cold bath after that first day. She walked into the bathing room and noticed that it had already been filled for her. She had initially expected to be told no, that was a lot of water wasting, who needs to wash that often. She would normally bathe but two or three times a day. It seemed that things worked differently in the capital and for that she was glad. She hated the feeling of sweat sticking to her body. She sat in the tub so long the once tepid water had turned cold and her teeth were chattering. Still she did not want to get out. There’s always something to dread, her father would worry if she wasn’t at breakfast, and so with a deep breath she stood up. Allyria put on a light green riding dress that was more slip then dress and made her way to her father's rooms. Her hair was fine and therefore already starting to dry, though she pulled it back to look a little more presentable, not that her father would care.  
The Lord's rooms were quite larger than hers as it was actually two, a small solar was connected to where he slept. The breakfast foods were laid out on the table, and Lord Alban was already eating. "Hello father," she said. There was cold ham, boiled eggs, sweet breads, and two skins, one of wine and another of fruit juice. Allyria took a small dish of strawberries and a slice of ham before sitting down.  
"We shall eat and then we will discuss these unpleasant matters," Lord Alban said. Allyria felt a little angry that her father had already decided her marriage would be unpleasant. It wasn’t that she expected it to be some great affair. She was young, and she let her imagination run will occasionally but she was still smart. They sat silently eating for a while, until the tension of not knowing got to Allyria. "Papa, it is past time we discuss my marriage."  
"I tried, I did try, and I wish that I did not have to say this," he said reaching across the table to hold her hand, "would that we were far from here." Her optimism was waning thin and she had to agree with her father. Life in Starfall may be boring but at least it was safe. She did appreciate that he wanted something better for her, but it had been hopeless anyways.  
"Father, I am far stronger than you think I am, a woman grown. Tyrion is a Lannister; there is honor in that if in nothing else."  
Her father scowled and his voice deepened, "it isn't Tyrion, it's not right. It is a dishonor to this house and to him I am sure." He tore a piece of bread rather viciously, “not that honor ever seemed to matter much to him. He said as if she knew who this he her father was talking about.  
"What other Lannister could it be, there is no one else. The letter said heir, and the heir is Tyrion.” She felt tricked and that wasn’t something she liked very much. He was the imp dammit, she was not from a Paramount house but she was a Dayne and he was lucky to have her. “I must admit this talk is ruining my appetite, I don’t care to hear about me being a dishonorable match.   
"There is another, Jaime," he said, not seeming to hear her.  
"But," Allyria started to add.   
"Yes, the vows. I don't know how he intends to do it but apparently Robert getting the iron throne was conditional upon Tywin, and Tywin was conditional upon getting his son back,"   
Suddenly everything made sense. That was his disgrace, it wasn’t so much based on Allyria, but that he couldn’t be married in his current position. The king intended to do something never to be done before, that would be a serious disgrace. For her it would be a disgrace to be married to him after that, to say nothing of him killing Aerys. To her father this would seem far worse than having married the imp. Yet the news little affected Allyria, she knew as much about Jaime as she had about Tyrion, he was handsomer to be sure and taller; but looks does not make the best foundation for marriages. In the end she decided that it didn't really matter which she married, she would still be married to someone. "Now you see the shame you must bear," her father added, "shame the king has given you." Allyria gave him a stern look, they were not in Dorne and there were spiders everywhere.  
"Does Ser Jaime know," she asked, trying to change the subject.   
Her father was standing looking out the window lost in thought, "know what my child?" he asked. "That we are to be married," she said with a small huff of impatience. Her father shook his head and shrugged in response. Allyria got up for the table, long since finished eating. The chair scraped on the floor as she pushed away. The back of her dress stuck momentarily to the backs of her thighs for having sat for so long.  
"Where are you going," her father called out as she was opening the door.   
"To find my future husband of course," Allyria replied with a smile.  
The castle was large and there were many places a young girl could get lost, especially when she wasn't sure where she was going in the first place. If Jaime was anything like every other knight she had ever met or heard of he would be in the yard at practice. Allyria had no idea where that was, but she knew how to get to the godswood and she thought that was a good enough place to start. There wasn't a heart tree in this godswood, there wasn't even a weirwood. Not that she would know what they looked like anyways having never been in the north. She had seen a painting of one, and the maesters had described it to her once. She wanted to go to God’s Eye but that was unlike to happen. Looking out at the garden she supposed if you were in a serious bind with the gods the white cherry tree might do. No amount of pink blossoms would put a face in this tree. She felt the bark it was smooth and thin, peeling from the tree in small curlicues.  
"Having a crisis of faith?" a voice called out to her. She turned around, still holding on to the tree, it was Jaime. He was read faced and shiny with sweat, signs that he had been working at something, his coat was slightly off too, Allyria assumed she had been right, he had been in the yard practicing,  
"Can you pray to Gods you don’t believe it?” the region of Dorne observed the rites of the seven but as far as religious education had gone the Daynes did a poor job of it. She didn’t believe in the maiden or the father or for any of the rest of them either. She had seen to many suffering, waiting for their gods to rescue them to think it a very useful pursuit. Not that she thought the Gods should stop every bad thing that happened, even to good people, she understood that men have the ability to make choices for themselves, but as far as she could tell the Gods old or new hadn't done anything for anyone.  
"No, my lady never prayed, not even to the maiden for a good marriage?" Jaime asked tauntingly.  
"When did I become your lady?" she asked trying not to blush or smile at his words. The garden was made mostly of fruit trees and the apple blossoms scented the air. She brought a few to her nose, and then plucked them, twirling them in her fingers. "Besides, if I have a good marriage it is because I find my husband interesting and pleasing because he is funny and kind, and he in turn finds me pleasing.”  
"And what does the lady think of me." He asked. Allyria thought he knew what he was doing. He was charming, though there was an air of arrogance about him. Like he knew what she was going to say and it didn’t really matter much.   
"I think my lord knows what he looks like," she said walking in front of him, doing her best to stay ahead of his long strides.  
"Suppose I have never seen a looking glass," Allyria stopped and turned to face him abruptly the gravel crunching loudly below her feet. She stared at him for a while, looking him up and down, observing all she could about him. He put out his hands and turned for her and it made Allyria smile.  
"You are tall, but not monstrously so, you have a lot of strength in your body well defined but still slight enough to not be imposing. Your skin is clear and unmarred by scars, at least what I can see of it." Jaime laughed after she that. He was a warrior under all of that, it would be unlikely to reach this age with no injuries. “You are tan, I am sure some fool or silly maiden has called you golden, as ridiculous as it sounds it would not be far off.” He smiled at the attitude in which her description of his looks was given. "Your smile though, when it is genuine, is nice and warm. You should smile more, you seem younger and you have nice teeth, straight and white."  
"Wait," he stopped her in all seriousness, "I look old?"  
"Not old, older, there is a difference. Besides people like it when you are happier, I prefer happy people.”  
"You don't always get what you want," Jaime said knowingly without a trace of condescension though it came accompanied with a hard look. She found herself questioning, was he sizing her up and if so to what purpose.  
"No, she said with a sigh and a sad smile, "sometimes you get married." She had been talking about how he didn't get what he want, but the chance misinterpretation made it hard for her to look at him as she continued speaking. "Your eyes though, they really are quite beautiful, like an evergreen forest, striking. If you are the most handsome man in Westeros it's not because of your hair or skin or name, it's your eyes.  
"So does all of this add up to you finding me pleasing," he asked.  
"Because you were unaware of your charm?" she asked seriously.  
Jaime stopped for a moment, they had walked out of the godswood completely and Allyria was not quite sure where she was. It took her a moment to realize what gate they were headed to, the bloody gate what creative names they have here in the capital. Jaime turned away from her, "you said sometimes you get married," he dug his boot into the dirt. "Did you mean me or you?" he asked sounding insecure.  
"You, both of us, I don't know it's not like either of us really chose this. Say whatever you like about me and my family but I am nowhere titled enough or pretty enough to turn the head of a man like you." Allyria was not a self obsessed girl, nor was she cowardly, she liked to think she was a realist. As a realist she knew that she was not her sister. “I am not the kind of women men cast their honor aside for.”   
"Haven't you heard?" he said with a sudden venom in his voice that had frightened her. "I abandoned those vows a long time ago."  
She shook her head at him, his anger so misplaced. She took his arm carefully and bringing him closer to her. She had done it with the express purpose of having him look at her but it was more uncomfortable then she had expected. Still she swallowed not sure how to convey that she wasn’t concerned with kingslaying "I don't know why you did it, but it needed done, no matter what my father, or brother might have said."  
He seemed a bit taken aback, “You are the first person to say that, it requires to much thought process for most"  
She laughed at that "I suppose abstract thought is difficult for some but anyone possesing the skills of being able to read and ask questions should be able to make a reasonable assumption.” She turned to him and looking at the ground quietly spoke, “I know that men who burn men and make their children watch don't deserve to live.”  
Jaime laughed at her again, "I suppose it could be worse."   
"What could be worse," she asked. "You," Jaime said loudly. He began walking away, it was hard for Allyria to catch up with him, and her breathing was a little ragged as she jogged to stay beside him. "I was supposed to be married once before; you are a great improvement, though seeing as I can't join the kingsguard to get out of it I suppose I will have to go along with it."  
"You could always join the night's watch," she said with a laugh, and Jaime laughed with her, a true and hearty laugh that made Allyria proud to be the cause of it. "So who is the lady I am to replace?"  
"Lysa Tully," he pulled a face at her, "can you see me married to her? She would have found it a much less happy marriage then the one she is in now. How would she ever survive my father let alone Cersei?" Jaime's face still had that funny bewildered look to it. If Allyria was honest with herself she would admit that Tywin’s reputation concerned her as well  
She shrugged and looked confused at him with an awkward smile. "I don't actually know who that is. I suppose it was a silly question to ask." He laughed again, she liked it to much for her own good, she shouldn't fall for a man based on his laugh.  
"For someone self declaring to be well read you appearing hopelessly naive," That was a fact she could not deny. Her childhood of relative solitude had had many advantages. Being experienced in courtly life or conversations with learned men was not on that list. They were still walking outside, it was early enough that the sun wasn't to hot and it felt nice on her skin. Still she felt comfortable with him, like they could one day be friends, and talk often like this.  
"You are not as mad as I expected to find you," Allyria said.  
"I am angry, but not at you, this was not your doing. Other people are not so blameless." Like your father, and your good brother the king, Allyria thought. She wanted to watch his face as he thought about these things, seeing how deep the anger and the hurt ran. As she wasn't paying attention she tripped over a rock in the path. "You have to look out for those better, there will be quite a few of them where you are going."  
Allyria nodded, grateful that Jaime had caught her before she could fall and scuff up her hands. "I suppose grace isn't my best feature."  
"Perhaps not," he paused again as if he was studying her and Allyria smiled. You have many other that are fine,” almost as an after thought he said, “your eyes are very pretty too.” It was nice to know she was not entirely lost on him.  
"How long do you think we have," she asked sheepishly. They were almost to the entrance to the castle. She stopped walking, wanting this conversation to be as private as one could be in King's Landing,  
Jaime pantomimed deep thought and stroking his chin. "Well…" he paused dramatically. "They still have to get me out of my cloak, and then my father will come not much longer after that, a month I would say."  
"Why minx? Would you like it to be sooner?" he asked leaning in very close so she felt his breath on her face.  
She knew he meant it as a joke but she turned away from him and was suddenly serious. “I mislike this place.   
“Well that,” she heard him say over her shoulder, “is something we have in common.”


	4. Release

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime is released from the Kingsguard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I edited this chapter A LOT, I am still not uber happy with it. The reason I think my story is such shit is because I can't write Jaime for nothing. I write him the way I want him to be and that's happy, and there's a lot of character development and plot to go before we could even get to that possibility lol.  
> Also I love comments if you wish to leave them! Thanks!

There would be no real ceremony; Robert of course wanted to make as big of a deal as possible about it. Cruel was perhaps not the word Robert stupid, selfish and unaware of others would be more honest but it took longer to say all of that. He had been quickly refused by Jon Arryn and strange as it was Barristan Selmy. The last twelve years there had existed a strange sort of camaraderie between Jaime and Selmy. It wasn’t that the old knight approved of Jaime so much as he knew what Aerys had been, better than perhaps anyone else alive. He also had an soft spot for the people and therefore had made it a point to never speak about it.  
That morning it had taken all of Jaime's considerable strength to walk himself to Visenya hill and climb to the great sept. He had done everything he could think of, he felt so desperate. The kingsguard meant shit all to him but letting it go some how was devastating. He had almost stooped so low as to beg out of his marriage,, he had swallowed his words though.  
Instead, when it became apparent there was no way out of the marriage he had contemplated just running away; going to the free cities liked he had always talked to Cersei about. He went a step further and thought he might try it even if he would be alone.Then he gave it up, oathbreaker is one thing, craven another, and what kind of man ran from a beautiful fifteen year-old girl.  
On his last day guarding the king he had talked to Jaime about his upcoming marriage. “She’s prettier than I thought she’d be, you remember her brother, face like a cliff. Strong and steady he was for all the good that did him.” Jaime did his best not to respond to him. Ignore him and let him drink himself to sleep like he did most days. “Fuck, Ashara that sister though. I remember Ned being to craven to ask for a dance from her. Then she threw herself from a tower, what a waste. Still, that little one she would be pretty on her knees, you should thank me.”  
“I would rather not.” Jaime grimaced.  
Robert had laughed at him then and sloshed his skin of wine getting some of it on his big belly.  
“When you fuck her will you think about her brother? Your sworn brother you betrayed?”  
Jaime fisted the pommel of his sword trying again to remind himself of his sister, her warm skin, the way it felt to run his hands through her hair. Anything to stop himself from killing this oaf. “What did Aerys say when you killed him?”  
Jaime blinked and felt himself coming back. “Burn them all,” he gave Robert a hard stare, “the same thing had been saying for hours, burn them all.”He had shut up then and let Jaime be in peace.  
Today at the sept they had stripped him of cloak, said some nonsense about Tyrion. That he being sickly, which was wholly untrue, a dwarf yes but his brother was still a very healthy man, made him incapable of running Casterly Rock. Tyrion would be a better lord then Jaime ever would be, if only his father would see that. The large man was giving a sermon to three people, his ego being as large as his waistband, it was becoming a longer process then Jaime, or anyone else expected. "Ye Gods," Jaime mumbled, "getting the cloak didn't take half as long." Ser Barristan Selmy over heard and gave a laugh, quite unlike the man..  
Robert was sitting in a nearby pew nursing from a horn of ale with a self satisfied smirk. The drunker he got and the longer this process took the angrier Robert got too. Finally it was his moment and the king waddled over, his feet sticking slightly to the floor with every step from the ale he had spilt. With a mind fogged from drink it was hard to work the clasps of the cloak, in frustration Robert cursed and ripped it off. Just like that there were only six members of the kingsguard.  
The marble floors of sept were not meant for kneeling and Jaime's knees cracked and popped as he stood, betraying the truth of his thirty years that his youthful face had always hid. He heard the king and the others shuffling about but did not stay to understand their actions. In one fell swoop they had taken everything that had ever mattered to him and again Jaime was powerless to stop it. To the world he had brought dishonor on himself by joining the Kingsguard but for all the things it had changed in Jaime’s life he would always consider it the his greatest deed. He didn’t need their approval, he had saved everyone and knowing it for himself was enough.  
Jaime found himself unthinkingly returning to White Sword Tower, servants had been removing his things over the past several days there would likely be nothing left for him. Wrenching open the door he entered into the dimly lit solar where Jaime had once sat with the greatest swordsman in the land. He looked at the large black table in the center of the room. He began taking off his armor and carefully placing it on the table, he had been taught to care for his things so that they would care for you. It had been almost like a ceremony to him, perhaps he did worship the warrior in his own way. The white enamel of the armor shown bright like a mirror in the deep black glaze of the oak table.The sight of himself looking at the armor he had worn everyday for the past twelve years made his head pound. He felt compelled by his own anger, he threw the chest piece of his armor across the wall and in a great sweeping movement sent the rest of it clattering on the floor. And though there was a release of tension in his body Jaime felt embarrassed and childish. The voice of his father suddenly came to him in his mind and try as he might he felt small. Jaime felt angry tears bite at his eyes; if he was honest he would have admitted they were out of sadness too, but not even to himself would he admit that he would miss the guard. "Dammit," He mumbled as he quickly wiped his eyes then ran his hand through his hair to disguise the action. He took a deep breath before slowly picking up all the pieces and putting things back the way they were before his outburst.  
Jaime heard some whispering at the entrance, he ran a hand quickly down his face before turning to look. Ser Barristan Selmy; at least his opinion of Jaime would be little swayed by what he just saw. Whoever the old man had been talking too was gone now.  
Like everything else in the tower the entryway and solar were small, within thirty paces Jaime and the Lord Commander were face to face, though Jaime had trouble meeting his eye.  
The older man clearly wanted to say something. He was a confident man all his life but he shifted a little at on his feet and looked quickly down at the floor before returning his gaze briefly to Jaime"Life is rarely what we expect," Ser Barristan said, grabbing Jaime's shoulder. "This was not what you wanted; the King wasn't what you expected nor some of your sworn brothers what you wanted them to be." That wasn't entirely true, Jaime had been in complete awe of Arthur Dayne Gerold Hightower and Selmy himself, once. He wondered if perhaps Selmy was speaking of his own disappointments as well. Every man dares to dream themselves a better world, a better person. Facing reality is a difficult thing for some. "You have a second chance, a new life ahead of you, do not waste it focusing on the could bes of your past." The elder man brought a hand to his shoulder and tightened his grip, Jaime winced but looked up at him for the first time. "Do not curse that girl to a life of unhappiness, to the same fate you once held, she is too kind and too pretty for that. Not to mention witty enough to keep up with you sharp tongued Lannisters," Barristan said with a smile. "She can make you happy, if you let her."  
There was an odd tension in the air. Neither man knowing what to do next, Jaime felt he should say something, do something and yet nothing seemed to be right. "It would be a lie to say that it has always been a pleasure, but it has always been interesting." Ser Barristan stuck out his hand and Jaime hesitantly shook it, and then the Lord Commander was gone. Jaime checked the urge to run.  
Passing through the lawn between his old home and the main castle Jaime realized no one had actually told him where his chambers where. Jaime let his feet lead the way, knowing with almost certainty they would lead into the great hall and then to Cersei, wherever she might be. As he passed through the great hall he saw someone else, someone who was most definitely waiting for him. The throne room was almost empty, except for a little white head in a deep purple gown.  
"Every passage leads here, that's what father said when he sent me at least. Rather ingenious though I suppose that was the point.”  
"Your father sent you?" Jaime asked, rather dully. Allyria nodded as she stood quickly and gracefully from the floor. She ran her hands absentmindedly straightening her dress which had creased slightly as she sat. Jaime wasn’t used to little girls waiting for, at least not ones who seemed to do it without ulterior motives. Being a kingslayer had not dettered every kind of paramour waiting in the capital.  
"Yes he said that you might not know where you are to stay, thought you might be least angry with me." She said. "Since it's not like either of us have a choice in the matter."  
"Lead on," he said with a short temper, he didn't need to hear how she wanted a different husband. With a sigh Allyria headed off away from where the main chamber hall lay. The castle is set up in four parts; the hall first the outer towers, white sword the hand and maegor's holdfast, the chamber floors where everyone from servants to squires to guests of the king stayed, then finally behind the throne room the small council room and maiden vault. Allyria must have been lost because it was in the direction of the latter that she headed and quite quickly. Jaime called out to her but she didn’t turn, “stop!” he grabbed at her arm. "I am not in the habit of chasing little girls," Jaime growled at her his grip inadvertently tightening on her elbow.  
"You seem upset I thought you might want to be alone.” She winced a little “Your hurting me, please let go.” She looked straight at him but her voice was thin and buried a under it was fear. Jaime dropped her arm like it burned him. He had no problem postulating but he never wanted to be the type to unnecessarily frighten women and children.  
"This can not be where I am to sleep, this leads to the maidenvault, where maidens prepare for their wedding." Jaime said in an almost condescending whisper.  
"Exactly," Allyria said and her face took on a queer sort of appearance. Her eyes were wide in surprise but with a tight thin lipped smile. “I was returning to my chambers, I am quite tired myself.”  
"You sleep here? It's really only for those betrothed to the king or crown prince." Jaime said matter of factly but with a confused look.  
"Yes," Allyria's face kept that very off putting fake joy appearance, "The king had my things moved here after my father consented my hand. I am not sure what is being played at but I would like to know." It reassured Jaime that she was smart enough to recognize that not all was as it should be.  
"Well," Jaime said drawing the word out, "My lady allow me to shed some light on the situation as you show me the way." He offered her his arm and she took it but said, "Don't call me that, I am nobody's lady." Jaime's face grew into a smirk and he could not help his reply, "You'll be my lady soon enough."  
"I will be your wife, and a great many other things I am sure, but," and here she stumbled a bit as if she “I do not know if I have the capacity to be a great lady like your sister.” Jaime laughed at that, how perfect she was Robert knew not. If Jaime had ever wanted a woman other than Cersei he would have been lucky to have a woman like her. His father on the other hand, well this did not bode well for him, unless she was a good actress.  
"The truth is you were given as a punishment, to me and to my father," Jaime said, not realizing the damaging effect his words could have. "The king could have picked anyone to repay his debt to my father but he picked you." Jaime stopped and turned the girl to face him, staring straight at her. "Any unmarried woman from a noble house; fat old ugly poor, whatever suited the king's taste, yet he chose you. An incredibly beautiful woman, and a seemingly very intelligent one at that. Why would he do that.”  
She grit her teeth, “those are kind things you say about me but we all know in different circumstances we might never have met let alone wed, your father.” She swallowed heavily and Jaime could see the muscles of her throat contract and release. “Lord Tywin would have picked someone more suited to the position of Lady of Casterly Rock.”  
Jaime nodded, she was honest he would give her that and continued to prove her awareness of the situation. You are also a girl from a house that had openly supported the Targaryens. It’s true you are not from a wealthy family but is an honorable house.” He looked around the room and noticed they were alone, not a surprise considering the location but he was used to maintaining an air of secrecy in his conversations. “The kings does not like my father, nor does he favor myself as he makes clear daily, and yet. He sends me you.” Jaime gestured to her, “not a perfect match, your right in that, but a much better one than he probably wished for, so I find myself asking why.”  
There was a stillness in the air before Allyria answered, "Arthur. He knighted you, and welcomed you into the kingsguard, but while he died defending the Targaryens you killed one of them, the very one you were sworn to protect above all else." Jaime was stunned by her answer. Jaime felt the truth of it and slumped under the weight of all his memories, he had tried to be the sword of the morning, but somewhere along the way became the smiling knight, he thought to himself. He never regretted killing Aerys, but he never intended to lose his way."I never met him," Allyria said dragging Jaime from his thoughts. "Well I did, but I don't remember him." Jaime nodded, he remembered how old she was, or rather how young, he too had been at her name day tourney. He was surprised when Sumner Crakehall had decided to go all the way to Dorne, but a tourney for a girl was a rare occasion and the crown prince was to be there too. "Your past does not bother me though; the king did not succeed in that respect." It was a nice sentiment, but Jaime's misdeeds ran deeper then broken vows and king slaying, not that he had ever regretted them either.  
They continued up the stairs, it was obvious to Jaime now that he would be on the top floor. The small windows cut into the tower guiding the way, in the winter they were boarded up and the halls were lit by torches drenched in wildfire.  
"You are smart, and I think you might be right but we will never know." Jaime said looking at the stairs still ahead of them, though they were almost to the top. "Your brother was the greatest of men that I have ever known. However, when I see you I don’t think about him, and I don’t need to explain myself to anyone.”  
They reached the final step, and then Allyria led him off to the left. Four doors down and she pushed one open, revealing a large but sparsely furnished chamber. The bed was large; it was so dominating it seemed to take up most of the room. It looked overly soft to Jaime and he wondered how he would sink into if he were to jump on it, as he had done in his youth. At first he checked the impulse to run and jump before he realized Allyria would probably approve of his impropriety. It was quite soft and he sank deep into it, Jaime was very satisfied. How odd he thought to himself, alone in his room in his bed, with his intended. "Care to join me? he asked, "it is quite comfortable.”  
Allyria laughed at him and smiled shaking her head, "I am sure it is. I am afraid this is where I leave you now." With that she left quickly, leaving Jaime to say thanks to a wooden door.


	5. Wedding

Jaime had not gone outside of his chambers much, except to the yard for practice and to be with his sister. With Cersei he never had to worry about what he said or thought, he was completely honest with his sister, and she with him. Jaime knew she was angry about his marriage, angry that it would leave her alone in the capital with no one but Robert, angry that someone else would have a claim to him. She was very vocal about it, calling Allyria all kinds of things. It was harmless and Jaime didn't stop her. He was too was angry, there was some relief in her words. Though Jaime didn’t agree with the things she called Allyria.   
It did cause him to remember less desirable traits in the woman he loved. When she had hurt Tyrion when he was just a babe, how she had gotten so many servants dismissed over the years. Cersei was vindictive and she didn’t suffer failures well, and when they happened she did what was in her power to stop them.   
“It doesn’t matter, isn’t that what you said to me all those years ago.” Her face crinkled in anger but she didn’t speak. “I never wanted you to marry Robert but you had to, you had no choice you said.” She turned away from him and when Jaime reached for her arm she snatched it back. “I did everything I could but run away, you won’t go with me so what difference would that make anyways? You are the only woman I love.”   
She turned to him, took his face in her hands and almost let their lips brush,”Swear it, swear to me that I am the only woman you will ever love.”  
Jaime leaned forward and pressed their bodies together fully, his hand at her lower back supporting her more,”You are the only woman I love, the only woman I would ever wish to love. I want for no other.”  
Later when he had left his sister’s chambers Jaime felt uneasy, as if something had, or was going to go wrong. His neck was tense and he pressed his fingers up and down the bones trying to ease this feeling away. He did it all through his walk towards chambers set aside for him. Tyrion had come in last night he had come to see Jaime, and Jaime was glad of it, though how he had got here so fast Jaime knew not. He knew Tyrion had every intention of seeing Allyria today, had said as much last night. Jaime did not want to see her, the thought of his would be wife had made the pain twinge again. He wanted to talk to Tyrion again but he would not go in search of his would be wife.   
Jaime opened the heavy pine door to the small solar that connected the series of rooms. There in the middle of it was Tyrion in a tall wingback chair his legs dangling off of it. And there to the left of him with a large book draped over her lap was the last person he wanted to see. He almost started to quietly back away when Tyrion called out to him.   
"Brother," Tyrion looked up at him with a smile on his face. Jaime was always pleased to be in his company. “I am glad you came, I ran into someone on the way back from breakfast.”  
"Oh," Jaime said trying to keep his voice expressionless. He walked across to them and sat in a nearby chair. "What have you been talking about?" he asked.   
"Oh this and that,” He said turning a page in the book with a flick of his wrist. “I must say your bride to be seems a clumsy kind of girl. Good thing she found herself such a skilled knight,” Tyrion looked like the cat who found the cream. His lips were stretched into a smile that was only on one side. Jaime cocked in eyebrow at her; Allyria blushed slightly but shook her head.  
"Your brother exaggerates; I have had a few moments to be sure but nothing so mischievous as he makes it sound. It is only so bad because of my poor parents; they treated me like glass you see." Allyria talked and looked at Jaime and he though again about how lonely her childhood must have been. With no siblings alive let alone her age and two distraught elderly parents. It was surprising she wasn’t a strange sort of person. She closed the heavy book and set it gently on the floor. Jaime saw that it was a history of the age of heroes.   
Allyria wore a dark pink dress today, it brought out the pinkness in her cheeks and made her seem flushed. He found himself hoping she was well. It was a fine dress with red myrish lace and ivory ribbons that cinched her waist tight. He noticed now that she was sitting strangely, as if she had a pole holding her up and he wondered what had gotten into her. She wore ribbons in her hair as well, which had been braided from one side and up over the crown of her head then down the other side towards the back of her skull where it ended in a tight chignon. Jaime had never seen her so formal, he had preferred her the way she usually looked.   
"Has Jaime told you about all the things he got up to as a boy," Tyrion asked Allyria. She shook her head answering, "No, Ser Jaime has not." Tyrion looked at Jaime with a glint in his eye, "Ser Jaime," he said with a smile, "how formal of you." Allyria blushed again, Jaime wondered if it was her brother bringing out her courtesies, or if there had been something he hadn’t noticed. .  
"What things have I done?" Jaime asked, knowing which stories his brother would not tell, the stories that haunted both but for different reasons. "If you mean the cliff that is hardly worth talking about," Tyrion did tell that story though. Allyria laughed when she was supposed to, look shocked when she was supposed to, Tyrion is a very engrossing story teller. Jaime finished the story, "there was never anything to fear, not until father knew, 'Lannister, Lannisters don't act like fools'" Jaime said, lowering his voice and taking on a rougher cadence. Allyria was completely engrossed in their story, laughing and smiling, she looked truly happy to Jaime.  
"You are not doing well to calm my nerves," she said teasingly. "How will I ever make it through meeting your father if you say such horrible things about him?"  
"I am afraid you should have reason to fear, you have met our sister," Tyrion said. "Oh sister, for you will soon be my sister, she likes to think herself as an heir to our father's cunningness, but she falls far short." Jaime just nodded, Tywin had not been the best father, perhaps he had been before his wife died but no one remembered that. Considering his long absences in the capital Jaime rather doubted it. He hoped he would take the same approach to any spouses but he didn’t have much precedent to go on. He wouldn’t want to marry into his family.  
"This family is always warning me I feel, like you are trying to make me cower in fear of my new husband." She said with a smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Jaime knew he had warned her and scared her as much as either of his siblings could have. "I must say it will not be so easy to call you brother, I thought it was us that were to be married not so long ago."  
It was a rare feat to shock Tyrion, but he was, "why would you think that?" he asked. Jaime was not surprised by the girl and her father's logic, in their shoes he would have thought the same thing, but Jaime knew too well that logic was not something you applied to Lord Tywin Lannister  
"The king's letter simply said heir, we did not know he had meant someone other then you. My father and I supposed you were the heir, since Jaime was in the guard." Her voice trailed off a little, not wishing to upset either of them.   
"Well you must be relieved." Tyrion replied with a laugh, trying to disguise the pain he felt at his father's refusal to recognize him as a worthy member of the family. "Not quite as smart as me I am afraid, but far handsomer."  
"Looks only count for so much in the end," Allyria began. Tyrion looked liked he was holding back a laugh and though Jaime appreciated her words he knew that for many that sentiment was just that. "I am pretty, but I will grow old, will I still be loved as much when my hair turns grey and my skin droops unbecomingly? What if there is an accident and scarred, would that be enough to shun our marriage bed.” Allyria shook her head. “The most handsome man in the world could still have a cruel heart. I was to be married to a stranger. Whether that was a tall or short stranger it is a stranger all the same . I wasn’t much distressed or relieved by the revelation in that moment I knew very little about you, and when the time came very little about Ser Jaime."  
"But they don't call him the Imp," Tyrion said with another suggestive waggle of his eyebrows.  
"No," Jaime interjected, "Kingslayer seems to do quite well enough.' There was an awkward pause for a bit, Allyria looked uncomfortable and Jaime wondered why. The other day is title didn’t seem to injure her sensibilities. In a strange way he found himself hoping this girl would understand him. But her knew that was never to be true. No one would love him, know him, the way Cersei did, they were made for each other.   
When Allyria finally spoke, breaking the tense silence, it was in a soft voice but a firm one that made Jaime feel compelled to listen. "We are broken, chipped in ways that can never be fixed, it makes us unique it makes us strong. I don’t wish struggles on anyone.” Here she seemed to stumble. Her brows furrowed and for some reason he wanted to reach out to her and smooth the tension inside her. “I wish, I wish things had been different for my family, I grew up surrounded by ghosts, instead of friends. As sad is may be it played a part in who I am, and I am proud to be me.” She had been studying some unknown item over his shoulder. She was strong, he could see that. He knew women in Dorne were held to a different standard, looser in some but more difficult than others. Sometimes Jaime wondered what his life would have been like if they had been born there. Cersei could have been the warrior she always wanted to be. As Allyria had finished speaking her eyes locked quickly with his before he found himself gazing at the floor.   
Tyrion nodded, "to true sister, to true."  
They talked for a little while longer about unimportant and trivial matters. When supper came she stayed and ate with them, laughing through the whole meal. When she left Jaime kissed Allyria on the cheek. Tyrion had waddled over to her and she bent and him goodbye as well.  
As she was closing the door to leave Tyrion said, loud enough for her to hear, "I like that girl."  
Allyria's new maid Meiri came in early to wake her. She was a kind young woman; she was definitely southern, though not dornish. Her hair was blonde but a dusty darker color and her eyes were a light brown. She smiled a lot and she put Allyria at ease. The girl simply showed up one day and Allyria did not know who hired her. Sometimes she deluded herself into thinking her father or Jaime had done it, but neither of them would ever have thought about it let alone be considerate enough to follow through. Tyrion could have, but in her heart of hearts she knew that the queen was behind it. She had a nagging fear that she should be afraid of her highness.  
Quickly and efficiently Meiri got her up, fed, bathed, and dressed, today would be the wedding. Today would be long. In truth Allyria had hardly eaten, though the table had been set with delicious fruits and sweetmeats. She felt slightly nauseous. She kept repeating in her head the mantra "I am not afraid I am not afraid." But she was, and when she would come to that conclusion she would try to counteract it with "it could be much worse, he is pleasant company and humorous and handsome." She did allow herself the understanding that happy marriages didn’t always involve love. In the end she ate a few pieces of fruit and nothing else. He father seemed equally ill at ease and he ate very little as well. The maids tutted as they cleared the table.  
Dressing without a maid today would have been impossible. With the two of them it still took well over an hour before all the pieces of the dress were fully assembled. The dressmaker had brought it in last night and as she showed it to the bride she remarked "a dress fit for the Lion of Lannister." Before they began Allyria stood in a light cotton robe and lace small clothes, for the wedding night, and admired the dress, a work of art to her. It was still in purple and silver, not Lannister red and gold, but it was the finest dress Allyria had ever beheld. It was light lavender silk with silver and dark purple brocade and had a lengthy train, Allyria worried she would trip on it. There was a belt of creamy freshwater pearls over purple lace, the same pattern she wore under the dress which also trimmed the veil, the pearls cascaded down the skirt in waves and ended in little silver shooting stars, a part of her house sigil. There were also pearls on the very bottom of the dress, the neckline, and dripping off the ends of the cap sleeves. The neckline was also a little lower then she was used to, but not so low as to be exposed in some indecent manner. Silver stars were also on the tight and corseted bodice, in the middle of each lay a small diamond. After it was finally on Allyria could not help running her hand down the sides of her body. Feeling the silkiness of it admiring the dress and the way it looked on.  
After Meiri had set to work with her face and hair, which Allyria found slightly vexing. Beeswax was applied to her eyelashes and eyebrows then a comb ran through them. Some form of berry paste applied to her lips and cheeks, a darker one for her lips that tasted of cherries. She was admonished for licking her lips though; she felt shame at being corrected like some small child. The hair was combed back and three little braids had been done then woven together on the right side. A low bun formed by the left ear which gave of the impression her hair was curly. A few pieces fell out and framed her face. Allyria couldn't believe how different she looked, and was yet still beautiful.  
There was a short sharp knock on the chamber door. The door opened a peak, "are you decent?" her father called in. "Yes papa, come in," she answered.  
Lord Alban looked very smart in dark brown twill trousers and a dark purple doublet; he walked with his ivory cane which he now leaned heavily on. "You look very beautiful," he said slightly above a whisper, and his voice broke a little too. Allyria did not study too long her father for she was afraid of crying, but if she had she would have noticed tears lined his old eyes.  
She handed him the veil, which was long white tulle with purple lace. Before covering her face he gave her a short moist kiss on the mouth. Then father and daughter began the long journey to the sept.  
The sept was much darker inside then it was outside, the difference made for a difficult adjustment. Far ahead she could still see the great fat High Septon with his crystal and Jaime. When she became accustomed she saw immediately the vast sea of red and gold, the sept was dripping in rich velvets and heavy woven tapestries of her new house colors, lions could be seen everywhere too. No expense had been spared for the heir of Casterly Rock and the queen's brother, Tywin had seen to that.  
Allyria had met the Lannister Patriarch a few nights previously; he was every bit as scary as his reputation. He had been blunt but she had also found him surprisingly kinder then expected, though not to any of his children. It was sad, but his treatment of Tyrion did not surprise her, though she cared for the dwarf greatly. His mocking scorn for Jaime and his daughter, the queen after all, had though. In that moment she pitied Cersei. The remark about expecting grandchildren quickly had not surprised her a bit, she knew her duty and would do it happily.She was surprised by his confidence of having grandsons but then it was rare Lord Tywin didn’t get what he set out for.  
As they entered everyone turned to look, except the queen, they all had smiles. Allyria found them infectious and began to smile too, and to hope and dream that all her fears had been for naught.  
The ceremony was shorter than she had expected, though she was grateful. Her father removed her lavender silk maiden's cloak stiffly and then Jaime had wrapped her in his heavy crimson one. She was no longer a maid, and soon she would no longer be a maiden. When the Septon had declared them married Jaime had given her a warm but chaste kiss, moving swiftly down the aisle.  
Honestly if she could have gone straight from wedding to bedding she would have done it. The feast and its tedious courses and dancing almost bored Allyria to tears. It would be a long feast, for again Tywin would show his might, though Jaime had advocated for a smaller one, a gesture that did not go unnoticed by her. It gave pause though too, what did it mean that they both desired a wedding that was over as quickly as possible and done with little fanfare?  
The servants had just finished setting all the tables, again a sea of red and gold, when the couple arrived. Jaime led them to the head table sitting in the center right chair without pulling hers out. Beckoning to a servant he called for wine, which he drank quickly and received more. He also called for her wine goblet to be filled. The servant a young man with brown hair and a thin mustache had poured a dark fruity red into her cup. "I don't normally drink My Lord." He frowned at her words but still didn’t look towards her "Jaime will do, and you will tonight," he replied gruffly. With a sigh he added a bit more kindly, "you may wish to be very deep into your cups by nights end. It will make things easier." Allyria wet her lips before taking a deep drink from her cup. After that others filed in and the food soon followed, first always to the King and Queen and then to Jaime and then Allyria and lastly the congregation.  
They ate for a while then she danced the first number with Jaime. After he returned to the table while she had been asked by the kings youngest and by far most handsome brother, Renly. She danced quite a few numbers, including one with Kevan Lannister whom she infinitely preferred to his elder brother. She took a rest after him, he paid compliment to his nephew on his new wife, and she blushed at his niceties though Jaime scarcely nodded. Ate a bit more and then danced a bit more and then ate again, it was now quite late. Jaime had danced quite a bit a few numbers but had spent far more time scowling at the food. He had danced once with his twin. That had been his last turn and since then he looked as though he was suffering from some kind of ache. He had not been very pleasant company all evening, she tried to quiet her fears. In all the time she had known him he had never been so quiet. She had to ask him something, perhaps she should have asked Tyrion, or days in advance but she was nervous and put it off. She grabbed his hand lightly, glad he didn't pull away. "I have a favor to ask, perhaps I have not earned it, but please, my father he’s old and I am all the family he has,” Her voice took a strange sort of dip when he saw she looked at her hand on his arm and not at her face. “Please find a way to get him out before the bedding. I do not ask for me, I am not embarrassed, but."  
He cut her off, "the bedding is a vulgar thing if we did not have to we would not, your father should not suffer consider it done." That was the most he had said all evening, at least to her. She also considered it the kindest thing he had ever said so far.  
Petyr Baelish approached the table; she was not fond of the man, though she barely knew him. "May I have a dance with your lady wife," he asked Jaime though he was looking directly at her.   
"I do not dance with men, Baelish. If it is a dance with my wife you want then ask her yourself." With a smile Allyria consented, though she was seething at the arrogance of the man whose hand she held. At the same time she felt her heat lighten at Jaime’s words and actions, perhaps she had been misreading this whole affair.   
She made a half hearted attempt to listen to what her partner was saying, praying she nodded at the right times. "A most fortunate match for you my dear," Allyria heard this and gave proper response. Across the room she noticed Jaime and Tyrion deep in conversation. "Then again not much respect for honor in that family or duty by the kingslayer, what would your brother say to that?" Allyria felt slapped, bringing up Arthur like that and calling Jaime by his taunting name. She could come up with no response and only just kept herself from calling him every horrible name she could think of. Though again in her heart of hearts she knew her brother would not approve of the match. If Arthur was still alive it would be unlikely Jaime would be.  
She was spared from further dancing something she was glad of as tears pricked her eyes. She was worried that once they started there would be no stopping them. She was an ugly crier and no one would wonder if it was tears of joy. As she had sought to distance herself from these feelings she didn’t see Jaime coming towards them. "My wife if you please," he had said with no other pleasantries or explanation. Jaime turned them so they would be closer to where her family was dining. "If you look you will see Tyrion escorting your father." As they made a sweeping turn she craned her neck to see over Jaime's shoulder, seeing the old man and the dwarf leave the great hall through a side door.  
Leaning in closer and feeling his warmth she rested her forehead on his shoulders and gave whispered thanks. For the first time that evening she felt a release of tension, and though she knew that night was far from over the feast soon would be. "The time will soon be upon us." They finished the dance, walking towards the table again hand in hand, Allyria wore a smile. Almost as soon as they were seated they were pulled out again, King Robert announced the bedding ceremony was to begin. Allyria blessed Jaime and Tyrion's timing. There was a roar from the crowd as men rushed to her and women to Jaime. Soon they were tearing the clothes off her, damaging the lovely dress. She hated the feeling of all these men's hands on her. One had swatted her backside and another lingered over her breasts, "the lion will feast tonight won't he boys." She clenched her teeth, unwilling to show them how disgusted she was. Soon she was in nothing but the lace small clothes, whistles and catcalls came from all over. They wrapped her finally in Jaime's cloak, she was grateful for the coverage. Now they were carrying her to the room, she knew Jaime would be there and though some might lurk outside the door she was glad only Jaime would be inside of it. They tossed her inside and bolted the door, though she did not see Jaime. She wondered briefly if he had left. "I want a bath," she said loudly and angrily with a shudder trying to erase the memory of so many lingering hands. She took off the cloak, still puzzled by Jaime's absence. She took the moment to peer around her new room, it was certainly bigger. The bed was a very prominent feature. There was a desk and table, a few books were strewn here and there evidence of Tyrion's patronage. A full decanter of red wine was on the table and with Jaime's earlier command in mind she moved to pour herself another cup. She had not noticed the door to her left but the sound of movement drew her attention to it now. She thought perhaps it led to the baths. She was about to look, and perhaps run one when the door open and there stood Jaime. He wore only small breeches; hair covered lightly his chest and arms that glowed slightly in the candle light.  
He seemed to make a small noise in the back of his throat before sayin, “I had ordered a bath be made ready for you.” He moved out of her way but held the door open so she could pass. As he did a roll of steamed moved past them she could feel the hot wet heat from here. She fidgeted with the laces of her slip trying to think what to say next. She had seen men or more realistically boys naked before as they bathed alongside the sea. She had never been naked with a man before. The fear from earlier was crawling back up her throat. He brushed her hands aside and loosened the ties at her bust so that it was loose enough to take off.”Enjoy your bath.”  
“You’re not joining me?” a strap fell of her shoulder and Jaime dragged his attention to it.   
He swallowed again, but shook his head. She felt a gentle hand on her back pushing her through and when she was completely on the other side he let the door close on her.   
She felt like she was playing a game, and for every two steps she took she also had to take one back. She clenched her eyes she took a deep breath in through her mouth out through the nose, pause 1, 2, 3, 4. In through the mouth out through the noses. That was what her septa had told her years ago whenever she would have to be away from her parents for any long period of time.  
She pushed the other shoulder down and shimmied out of her clothes. There was a stack of towels on a bench nearby and as she walked towards them she flicked her clothes away with her foot. They landed in a little puddle on the floor and she watched as they quickly absorbed the water. She was glad for now she wouldn’t be tempted to put them back on again.   
She grabbed a towel and brought it back to the edge of the basin and then placed it on a dry spot next to the her. Her hair was still up and out of her face for which she was glad. The water was hot and it burned her toes when she tested the water.   
She waited as long as felt she could when she finally got in and let the water was over her. She scooped it up and poured it down her arms, her back and over her chest. She scrubbed lightly at her body. She was already very clean, some sweat had clung to her through out the days as she had moved and danced in her heavy garments. Eventually she had to get out.   
When she was mostly dried she went to the door and opened gently. She was afraid, but that wasn’t so much the right word. For all his faults and she was sure there were many she didn’t even know about, she was not worried he would hurt her or purposefully mistreat her. It was more a fear of the unknown. She wasn’t an idiot, she knew what happened in a marriage bed. She just didn’t know what she was supposed to do, did he expect her to do something and if so why didn’t he just say it. People are exasperating.  
She opened the door and ignored the urge to peak around the edge before actually entering the room. Jaime was in bed he had put on a tunic he had a glass of wine in his hands and he was looking at the bed spread. His eyes flickered and met her but it was so quick a blink at the right moment and she would never have known. He had a strange look about him, as if he was projecting being peaceful when he in reality is was wracked with tension. She wanted to say something, to put him at ease to reassure herself, but her mouth ran dry. She walked quickly but quietly into bed. Lifted the covers and joined her husband. How strange that word felt in her mind. How strange it felt to have another body in bed. The sheets were and though their bodies were not yet touching it seemed that she even just his presence had changed everything.   
As she had busied herself in getting comfortable Jaime had turned to study her a bit. When she looked up their eyes met again. This time he held her gaze and it made Allyria feel conflicted. She was warm, from the wine, from the weather and she couldn’t lie desire. She wanted Jaime, there are few people who would deny his appeal. She also felt small. She was trying to hide that, she didn’t think Jaime was trying to scare her or upset her and she didn’t want to be that girl. She was brave, she was strong. She leaned over and kissed him. His lips were soft but firm against hers, she opened her mouth slightly inviting him for more but none came so she pulled away a little embarrassed. As she moved back she felt his hand on her naked hip. “You looked very beautiful today, you look very beautiful now.” A smile burst through her cheeks and a surge of warmth burned in her belly.”I am tired now though.”   
Jaime’s look was firm but not unkind and she understood he was telling her something without being overt. She swallowed thickly. “Yes it has been a long day hasn’t it. I am tired as well.” She leaned once more into him but the hand that was on her hip had moved to her shoulder and gently pushed her away. At first she was glad that he was making an advance but then after she was laying down and as ready as she could be, he turned away from her. She couldn’t hide the confusion on her face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this took a long time editing because in the original I had them consummate it (ugh I hate that word) and it just felt to rushed for Jaimes character


End file.
